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I thought there was a way away.
Water under bridges open -
closing and the companion stars
would float there afterward.
- J.B. A modern interpretation of Job: by Arthur Machleish
Desire not the night, when people are cut off in their place. Take heed, regard not iniquity: for this hast thou chosen rather than affliction.
- Job 36: 20-21
“Don’t let them take me alive.” The main character of Yeston and Koppits “Phantom” made his father promise to shoot him if he was ever captured, because he preferred to die rather than live out his life as a circus freak. Spies take this very seriously, because if you’re captured you’ll be tortured, and they don’t trust themselves not to give out under it. And why face the torture if you’ll be killed anyway?
Mostly people, most of the time will agree that suicide is generally wrong. A human life is a miracle, no matter how miserable or battered that existence may be. There is always, always hope, and no one should throw away all that they could be because of what they have become. But what if the alternative is not hope, but something far, far worse?
Don’t let them take me alive, not because death is the easy way out, but because the things that will happen if I fall into captivity are beyond imagination, beyond imagining. Please, just kill me, because he won’t. He’ll bring me back to life, and kill me again, and again, and again. And it will never end. Bring the poison; give me a dagger, if you will not take my life I will take it myself.
Sometimes there is no hope. As a fantasy writer the horrors we can inflict on our characters are far worse than those we can expect in real life. With mind reading devices and other such psuedo-technology we can do anything from learn every last secret to actually turning them against their friends. “You have to kill me… before I kill you.”
But even if that is considering “cheating” there is yet another aspect of self-killing to be considered; self-sacrifice. Self-sacrifice is the most noble thing a man can do. To lay down your life for your neighbor, whether that’s literally or figuratively is the highest calling of a Christian, the most noble thing a character can do. It’s the physical expression of love, and it is what Christ did for us.
What then, some may ask, is the difference? If you’re taking a gun to your head does it matter the reason why? Suicide victims often believe the world will be better off without them. Perhaps the hero sacrificing himself for his friends is making a terrible mistake. Either it is, or it isn’t, you say. How can it be right in one situation and not another?
The answer to this question is a simple evaluation of motives. Motives are not necessarily something that can be judged externally, and only God can judge the heart. The real question is this: if you're given the option to save someone's life by loosing your own, will you have the courage to take it?
The most noble stories, and the most heartrending, are the tales where the hero sacrifices himself so that someone else can escape. Perhaps it's the person he loves, or the person he hates, or a complete stranger. Sometimes he doesn't always die, but the risk is there. He is willing to.
Every time Robin Hood makes a rescue he runs the chance that he'll be captured and hung. He could stay safely in the forest, hidden, and soon Prince John would forget all about him, ensuring his safety. But he wouldn't be the hero we all adore. In another movie the local authority starts systematically hanging innocent men in the place of a wanted outlaw. One dies on the first day, six on the next, increasing in number until Dardo gives himself up to them to be hanged.
That's sacrifice. That's true love. And even if “it's suicide to go in there!” it's not only justified, it's the right thing to do.
Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.
*John 15:13
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Floyd was frozen where he stood. He struggled to breathe, but the air smelled of blood and death and guilt. He tried to formulate a name, to ask, but language was meaningless, and words would not come. He tried to scream but the sound got stuck in his heart, shattered into a million pieces, and scattered to the wind.
In a world without superheroes, who will stand against the forces of evil?
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I get it up now.